


How to Train Your Bladder

by TheTimelessChild0



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Desperation, Episode: s04e01 Partners in Crime, Urination, the doctor talks to himself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:48:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22851280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTimelessChild0/pseuds/TheTimelessChild0
Summary: There was a mop bucket. Big deal.
Kudos: 4





	How to Train Your Bladder

The Doctor sonicked the door to the cupboard shut, so he wouldn’t be discovered by a cleaning guy or anyone else; and immediately placed a foot on his left heel, scratching it vigorously. 

_ Not. Now.  _

He’d noticed his need once he entered the building and considered hiding in the men’s room, but quickly rejected this option. 

For one, he needed to be in there for a while, and someone was bound to notice the one stall continuously occupied. 

It would also mean that he wouldn’t be able to wash his hands after using the toilet, and while he had hand sanitizer which was an acceptable substitute, others would hear him urinate, followed by him not making any noise or leaving the stall. Also suspicious. 

Lastly, even  _ after _ emptying his bladder, the sound of others peeing for hours on end would be  _ unbearable _ . So he chose this place instead. It had a receptacle for his required expulsion. 

Since he would be in there for hours and needed to keep track of time, the Doctor resolved to  _ hold it _ until the very last moment. It hadn’t hurt him in the past, why break a  _ good  _ habit? Or at the very least a useful one..

He found himself staring at the ceiling with his back turned away from the mop bucket. His legs were now crossed, as his bladder got eager. 

The Doctor found himself mildly disappointed in his bladder. It very much appeared that had he been in front of a toilet, a single glance at the ceiling like at this very moment, would probably make him  _ leak _ . Time Lords were supposed to be capable of holding it in for a full 24 hours after the first signal. It hadn’t even been 3. And he’d only spend another 12 inside the cupboard. He’d be rubbish on a road trip. 

He briefly remembered that he had an empty bottle in his coat pocket. He took it out and looked at it. The Doctor remembered how many glasses of champagne he’d drank on the Starship Titanic. Enough to fill half of his bladder. And it had already been vaguely poking at him insistently while he’d been investigating the ship. 

It was very fortunate that the steering wheel on the bridge was very large, allowing him to stretch and cross his legs. He’d almost lost it  _ waay  _ too early when he’d said  _ Allons-y.  _ It had very much NOT been a signal to his bladder, telling it to  _ let go _

At hour 8, the Doctor had his hands folded between his legs, clenching firmly. 

_ Shut up shut up shut up shutupshutupSHUTUP!!!  _ He pleaded with his bladder. He couldn’t afford to set a precedent with his bladder when it came to where he could pee. He’d lose control at the sight of a  _ leaf  _ if he took it that far. 

At the cusp of evacuation, the Doctor’s bladder pulsed in rhythm with the second-hand on his watch. He imagined himself dancing with Reinette, just to get a distraction. He’d resemble a hamster in a cage by now, if only he’d had the room to  _ pace _ . 

Once the time was a minute and 15 seconds till the employees went home, the Doctor was hopping with crossed legs, vigorously tapping his feet like a Road Runner. 

He unzipped at 63 seconds left. By the time the smaller hand pointed at 12, he was already urinating furiously. 

_ That’s it, next time I’m going in the TARDIS beforehand,  _ the Doctor decided. He was peeing longer than he had done in a long time. Maybe longer than that one time with Martha. He smiled. If she knew, she would probably be angry at him. And he’d claim to have gone at least a little bit earlier this time. Not that this was entirely true. That his bladder had stretched its capacity, after all those subsequent  _ close calls _ was more likely. Or..100% the truth. 

He didn’t dwell on these thoughts as he quickly zipped himself back up, rubbed his hands with soap, and exited the cupboard. The relief of his empty bladder had been  _ so great _ , his right shoulder jerked upwards with the change in blood pressure. The Doctor sniffed to make it stop. 

_ I get it, I really had to go, you made that perfectly clear, now drop it,  _ he commanded his bladder. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, as when he entered the maintenance cradle, what would he find..but another  **mop bucket** . 

The End


End file.
